


all the saints lost to heaven

by misura



Category: Priest (2011)
Genre: Blood Drinking, M/M, Post-Canon, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29351601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: I no longer know your name,Priest wants to tell Black Hat sometimes.Part of him fears that Black Hat will tell him,That's all right, I remember yours.(post-canon AU)
Relationships: Black Hat/Priest (Priest 2011)
Kudos: 5





	all the saints lost to heaven

It's not easy, but then, Priest supposes saving the world is like that. Not easy.

(He remembers the men and women who came for him, once upon a time, their faces solemn as they spoke to him of sacrifice and faith and destiny, and he tries not to resent them, to think, 'these people did what was easy, leaving it to others to pay the costs of what they had done'.)

(He almost succeeds.)

Hicks gulps down some water. Of all of them, he's still the most human - the weakest, Priest deliberately doesn't think, because being human doesn't make Hicks weak.

Being human just makes Hicks the only one of them who isn't a monster, either man-made or vampire-changed. It's a good thing, a precious thing, Hicks's humanity.

"Guess someone's thirsty," Black Hat says, baring his teeth.

Black Hat had another name, once, and maybe 'Black Hat' doesn't fit anymore either, not to the person he's become, but he's got the hat and Priest hasn't got the energy to spare to worry about names.

He's not used his own for longer than he can remember. (This is a lie, but an honest one.)

"I could do with a drink myself." Black Hat looks at Priest.

Priest looks back. He once feared this, feared it would change him, infect him, lessen him: only familiars let vampires feed on them. _It's just blood._ That's what he told himself, the first time, steeling himself, telling himself it was necessary: sacrifices must always be made.

_It's just blood._ (This is a truth, but not an honest one.)

Hicks watches them both, lips wet. Priest can tell he still disapproves, but not to the point of saying something, let alone of interfering.

Even so.

"Hicks. First watch is yours."

Even so, for some things, Priest prefers privacy.

It feels like confession, like communion, like absolution - and yes, like sacrifice.

"You know he's jealous, don't you?" Black Hat says, not specifying.

Priest sometimes suspects Hicks may not know himself. There's a bond between him and Black Hat, old wounds, old history, half-healed scars. They fight well together, beautifully well, like they were born to it, rather than created, trained to forget everything else, everyone else.

_I no longer know your name,_ Priest wants to tell Black Hat sometimes.

Part of him fears that Black Hat will tell him, _That's all right, I remember yours._

They were never lovers before - before. Not as far as Priest can remember. He had a wife, a child: he does not recall a lover, any inclinations in that direction, and yet here they are.

"Not jealous enough to cause any trouble," he tells Black Hat.

"Maybe," Black Hat says, reaching for him again, possessive and demanding and inhuman.

Priest gives himself up. He's done it before, from the day he started training, and then again and again until he forgot how to hold anything of himself back.

It's easier with a friend, or an enemy, someone who looks at him and remembers his name.

Hicks never comments on the bite marks, or complains about the noise.

"You can rest now," Priest tells him, sitting himself down to keep watch. He's got some fresh bullets to turn into vampire-killers, and Black Hat's probably going to join him sooner rather than later.

Vampires sleep during the day, as most humans do during the night. Being neither, Black Hat seems not to sleep at all, or perhaps he dozes for a bit during the twilight hours.

Priest has decided to think of it as 'convenient', much like it is 'convenient' to have a companion who is five times as strong as any human, who heals quickly and rarely gets injured. Who is quick and brutal and violent and not squeamish about a little blood.

It has been a long time since his last confession, since he has offered up his sins only to be asked to tell more, to open up his soul to the scrutiny of what is, in the end, only a program, a computer.

"Everything all right?" Hicks asks, pausing.

Priest opens his mouth.

"Oh, everything's just peachy," Black Hat says, and Priest notices the way Hicks's gun traces his movements, finding the pattern, predicting where he'll be next, to make the kill-shot.

( _I will train her to be like her father,_ Priestess told him, one arm around Lucy, protective and possessive at the same time, as if leaving his daughter in her care somehow made up for all the ways in which he has failed her.)

( _Better, I think,_ he said, smiling.)

Priest doesn't think he's much good as a teacher: at heart, Hicks is still the same person who aimed a gun at him over a year ago. Any new skills or personality traits Hicks has picked up come from life, experience, not Priest.

"Don't think I was asking you," Hicks says, and Black Hat shows him his teeth.

"Easy, there. We're all friends, aren't we? Allies."

"Everything's fine, Hicks. Thank you," Priest says. "Now go. Sleep. We'll have an early start tomorrow."

Hicks goes.

"Told you. That one's going to be trouble," Black Hat tells him.

A few hours of night remain. Priest has allowed the fire to die down; Black Hat doesn't need it to see, and Priest has become comfortable with darkness some while ago. There's nothing that can hide in it he hasn't seen before, fought before, killed before.

Light is a convenience, not a necessity.

"No, he's not. Not unless you keep provoking him."

Black Hat sighs. His eyes glow a little, inhuman. "Oh, right, I forgot. No fun allowed. Can't kill any humans, can't snack on any humans, can't tease the help - what's next?"

"If you're dissatisfied, you could always leave," Priest says. He and Hicks would have to follow, of course. Black Hat knows too much, is too dangerous to risk finding a new queen to serve.

"Still a damn drama queen," Black Hat says.

_I'm not the one who -_ Priest starts to think, before he stops himself. Old sins. "It's the truth," he says.

"Doesn't mean it's all there is," Black Hat says. "Anyway, let's face it, without me, you'd both be dead inside of a week, if not sooner. You need me a hell of a lot more than I need you."

"I prefer to think we need each other," Priest says.

"You would, wouldn't you?" Black Hat asks, sounding fond and almost human in the dark, his eyes nearly invisible. Then he's there, too close to deny the reality of him, the monster come out to play.

Priest remembers the Cities, the people, the looks. He never felt like a monster until then, never imagined himself less than human, less than welcome.

Black Hat grins at him, his hands already moving, staking a claim Priest supposes they have every right to make. The Church forfeited him when they cast him out; if he belongs to anyone now, it's to Black Hat - and Black Hat to him. A marriage in all but name and purpose.

"We're here to keep watch," he says, though part of him is responding already, eager and as hungry as Black Hat after years of being starved and denied.

"Nothing living or dead around for miles. Trust me, I'd know," Black Hat says.

_Trust me._

Priest didn't, once, and a dozen good people lost their lives, and then who knows how many more.

He has no intention of repeating past mistakes.

"Still think I don't let you have any fun?"

Black Hat chuckles, which Priest decides to count as a victory, or at least a point.


End file.
